Black Knight (A Black's Bandits Novel): HOT Heroes for Hire: Mercenaries

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Jared returned to the house and stomped the snow from his boots before going inside. The smell of coffee greeted him. Libby was sitting upright on the couch, blanket tucked around her, cup of coffee in hand. She smiled at him.

  “Good morning,” she said brightly.

  “Morning.”

  He waited, hoping she’d tell him she’d remembered who she was—but she didn’t. He poured a cup and went over to sit on the opposite couch. The fire blazed.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  “A little after seven.”

  “Is it still snowing?”

  “Nope. Looks like the storm moved out after all. Nothing more predicted for the next few days.”

  “We’ll be able to leave soon, right?”

  “It’d be best if we wait until they clear the main road.” His four-wheel drive would do it, but it’d be a harrowing trip.

  “Right. Of course.” She lowered her coffee to her lap and sighed. “I still don’t remember anything. It’s frustrating.”

  “My boss texted.” Her head snapped up, her eyes lighting with anticipation. “You were right. Your name is Liberty. Liberty King.”

  “Liberty King,” she repeated. “It doesn’t sound familiar at all. What else do you know?”

  “You’re an admin assistant at a tech firm in Chantilly called Ninja Solutions. You live in an apartment in Arlington.”

  “Okay, so I have a job. That’s good. And I live in Arlington. Do I live alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not married then. And probably not in a serious relationship because wouldn’t we live together? Of course we would.”

  “Unless you have personal reasons, like religious beliefs, that prohibit it. Though I think you’re right since a serious boyfriend would have noticed you were gone.”

  She frowned. “No one’s reported me missing then. What else did you find out? Do you know how I got here?”

  He didn’t want to scare her, but at the same time he needed her to know that whatever had happened to her, it was probably serious. “No, not really. Your car is still at your apartment building. But your phone’s last known location was Culpeper. It’s likely, though not one-hundred percent certain, that someone brought you here against your will.”

  Her eyes were wide. “Why would anyone do that?”

  “I don’t know why specifically, but there are certainly reasons why pretty young women are forced into vehicles and taken to remote places.”

  The color drained from her face. “I don’t remember any of it, but what if someone—?”

  His gut twisted. “I can’t lie and tell you that you weren’t sexually assaulted, but there could have been physical signs you’d have noticed if someone raped you.”

  He listed the symptoms she might have if someone had forced his way into her body. It made him sick to have to say it, but he had no choice.

  She shook her head and some of the color returned to her cheeks. “No, none of that. There’s nothing going on down there that shouldn’t be going on.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. I admit the idea scared me, but there’s nothing that makes me think I’ve had sex with anyone recently. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ve ever had sex.” Her cheeks grew rosier at that statement. “Well, okay then. I’m Liberty King. Libby King.”

  He recognized that she was embarrassed and trying to move on, so he didn’t stop her. He thought if she’d had any of the symptoms he’d mentioned, she would have swallowed her embarrassment and let him know so he could treat her. At least he hoped so anyway.

  Her gaze was bright. “I wish we could leave right now. I want to see where I live. I want to go through my things, change my clothes, find my phone. I must have contacts—friends, family, people who could tell me more about myself.”

  “I’m sure you do. When we can get out of here, I’ll take you home.”

  Her expression clouded for an instant. “You’re the only person I know right now. Please don’t drop me off and leave me if I still haven’t remembered.”

  “I won’t, Libby.”

  “Do you promise?”

  “I promise.” How could he leave her? Until he knew how she’d gotten up here, he couldn’t drop her off at home like nothing was amiss. He wouldn’t leave her until he was certain she was safe and comfortable.

  “How do you feel today?” he asked.

  “Still sore, but not as bad as yesterday.”

  “Let me look at your head.”

  She was still as he peeled off the bandage and inspected the area. It was scabbing over nicely. He moved on to her neck. Same deal there.

  “Will there be a scar?”

  “Shouldn’t be.”

  “Thanks again for all your help, Jared. If you hadn’t found me, I’d have frozen to death out there.”

  “You didn’t, though. You’re safe. We’ll get you home and back to your life in no time.”

  “I hope so. I want to remember. I hope I like where I live and work. What if I don’t?” She looked genuinely concerned.

  “Then you make changes.”

  “You make it sound so easy. Maybe it is. Maybe I’ve been stuck in a rut and this is just what I needed to get me out of it.” She was back to sounding cheerful again. He admired how she could take lemons and make lemonade. His mom would have liked her.

  That thought stopped him in his tracks. Why was he thinking about what his mom’s impression of her would be?

  Probably because she was gone, and because Libby was the first woman he’d ever met that he thought his mom might find interesting. He’d had girlfriends as a teenager, but that wasn’t the same thing. His mom had been gone before he’d become an adult, so he’d never know what she thought about any woman he dated.

  In the distance, the baying of a dog echoed through the trees, slicing into his thoughts like a hot knife.

  Libby jumped at the sound. “Is that a wolf?”

  Jared listened, his blood chilling. “No.”

  She looked relieved. He was anything but. He recognized that sound. It was the sound of a dog tracking a scent.

  Could be any scent. Could be a hunting dog going after prey.

  But every instinct he had told him this dog was hunting a person.

  Chapter Nine

  “What’s wrong, Jared?”

  He was utterly still, a look of concentration on his face. “I need you to get your shoes on. Put on the socks I gave you first. Put your jacket on, too.”

  Libby’s heart raced as fear spiked. It was bad enough to know she’d probably been abducted and brought here against her will, but watching Jared now, that fear multiplied tenfold. He’d said he was a warrior, but that hadn’t meant anything to her.

  Until now.

  He strode into the bedroom he’d claimed for his own, returning with a sweatshirt he threw at her. “Put this on over the jacket.”

  He dropped a bag on the floor and unzipped it. A moment later he was yanking guns from the interior, shoving bullets into the weapons, and dropping them beside him like his own mini-arsenal. The sheer number of weapons stunned her. She wasn’t scared of them, though. Perhaps she really had grown up on a farm.

  In the distance, the braying dog was joined by another one. And was that a snowmobile?

  She didn’t know what was going on, but she hesitated only a second before she did as Jared told her, fear a hard knot in her belly. She dragged the sweatshirt over her head, clawed it down until it draped over her hips. That was when she noticed Jared removing a big rifle from a case.

  It was wicked looking, with a long scope and a tripod that he could unfold to prop it up. The barrel had a lot of holes in it. He glanced at her, his expression grim.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered, her throat too tight to speak properly. She couldn’t get past the idea someone had forcibly brought her here, and it colored everything. She told herself that whatever he was doing didn’t necessarily have anything to do with her, but deep down s
he knew it did.

  “I don’t know, but I mean to find out.” He inserted a long metal piece filled with bullets into the rifle until it snapped into place with an audible click. Then he slung it around his body until it was across his back before bending to pick up the other weapons. Somehow he put several of them on his person. “Do you know how to shoot?”

  Libby swallowed. “I-I don’t know.”

  He took one of the weapons, dropped something from inside the handle, and held it up. “This is a magazine. It has bullets in it.” He dropped it into his pocket. “Now pull the top of the gun back toward you. Like this,” he said. He pulled and released a couple of times, then aimed at a kitchen cabinet before pulling the trigger. The gun clicked.

  “Your turn.” He handed it to her. It was difficult to pull at first because the top of the gun was tight, but he showed her how to hold it so she could put more muscle behind it. When she had that trick down, she repeated the motions he’d shown her.

  Jared nodded. “You just cleared the weapon and dry-fired it. Now you put this magazine in and pull back the slide when you want to fire. Release it and you’ve loaded the chamber. Then point and squeeze the trigger. Preferably without closing your eyes.”

  He handed her the loaded magazine and she pushed it into the grip with shaking hands until it clicked.

  “Don’t pull the slide yet. This is a Glock-19. There’s no safety on it so I don’t want you standing around with a bullet in the chamber. Never point a gun at anything you don’t intend to kill, even when it’s empty. And don’t shoot unless you have no other choice. Once you’ve fired it, the next bullet will go into the chamber—so be careful. It’s loaded and ready at that point. Only shoot if you have to.”

  She felt like her eyes were huge. “What does that mean exactly?”

  “It means that if anything happens and we’re separated, you use that on anyone who tries to hurt you. And keep using it until they stop coming for you. The magazine is a double-stack, so you’ve got fifteen bullets in there. Don’t try to save them.”

  The dogs and snowmobiles were growing louder. She was cold, but sweat popped up between her breasts anyway. “Who would want to hurt me?”

  “Maybe no one. But I prefer to be prepared.”

  Libby sucked in a breath. “I’m scared.” Maybe she shouldn’t admit it, but it was too huge a thing to ignore. She didn’t know who she was, other than a name and occupation, but she was pretty sure she didn’t encounter dangerous situations very often. She wasn’t a warrior.

  Jared wrapped an arm around her and tugged her against his side. It was unexpected, but welcome. When he dropped a kiss on her forehead, she couldn’t help the shiver of delight that tripped down her spine.

  Stupid time to be pleased, Libby.

  “I know,” he said softly. “But this is what I do. It’s like winning the lottery, Libby. You happened upon the right guy at the right time. There’s a lot in this world I can’t do, but this is something I’m trained for and highly skilled at. No one’s getting to you without going through me. And that’s not an easy thing to do, I promise you.”

  The dogs and snowmobiles were getting closer. The dogs brayed, following the scent they’d been given. Jared had grabbed a small pair of binoculars and stood with them to the glass, sweeping across the view as he waited for a sighting of the men heading toward the cabin.

  He hoped there weren’t too many of them. He could fight them off, but the more there were, the more difficult it would be. And it would draw attention to their location because the fight wasn’t going to be quiet. He didn’t want to use any explosive devices, but he would if necessary.

  He gave one longing look at his truck and shook his head. It was four-wheel drive and he’d make it out of the driveway given enough time—but they didn’t have that kind of time. Plus, if he got to the road and it was impassable, they’d be sitting ducks.

  The safer option was staying in the cabin, no matter how much he hated that idea. He’d texted Ian to let him know there was a potential problem, but it hadn’t gone out. Jared looked at his phone and hit the screen to try again. Not that Ian could do anything to help, but at least he’d know they were in trouble.

  “I can’t believe you go on a solitary retreat with a whole arsenal of weapons,” Libby said from behind him.

  He glanced back at her. She sat on the floor because he’d told her to. She’d lain the gun on the floor beside her. She was currently staring at the weapons placed side by side in the center of the floor. The ones he hadn’t managed to put in holsters on his body.

  “It’s part of the job.”

  “But the whole idea of a retreat is not to be working. Right?”

  Jared arched an eyebrow. “And suppose I took my retreats with no weapons. Where would we be now?”

  She frowned. “We’d be fucked.”

  He didn’t anticipate the primal reaction snaking its way through him at that word on her lips. But he liked it.

  “Yeah, fucked,” he repeated. “And not the good kind.”

  She blinked rapidly and glanced away. Her cheeks flushed. It was a mystery to him how she could be so damned talkative and yet blush at any hint of innuendo. Though it was also a good thing after the talk they’d had just a few minutes ago.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Now’s not the time for jokes.”

  She jerked her gaze back to him. “Oh, I think it’s definitely the time for jokes.”

  “Yeah, but sex makes you uncomfortable, so I was out of line.”

  Her jaw dropped. “What makes you think that?”

  He turned back to the window. Nothing visible yet, but they would appear any moment now. “Because you blushed. Just like yesterday when I saw your panties before I put them in the wash.”

  Any sign of discomfort or unease, and he wouldn’t be teasing her. But there wasn’t—plus it kept her from dwelling on what was happening right now.

  “It was obvious, huh?”

  “It was,” he murmured, scanning the forest.

  “To be fair, we don’t know each other and you were handling my underwear. It was a bit disconcerting.”

  “Clearly.”

  A dog’s head appeared, and then another. Labrador retrievers. Black. Two men on snowmobiles appeared behind them. A third brought up the rear. Same two men from yesterday plus one. Shit.

  “I want you to lie flat on your stomach on the floor. Beside the couch,” Jared said, not turning around. “Cosy up to it as close as you can get. And don’t move, no matter what. The only way you move is if I tell you to, got it?”

  “I—yes.”

  Jared slid the AR-15 from his shoulders and propped it beside the door. Then he grabbed the beer he’d set on the floor and slipped out the door as the dogs and men headed straight for the cabin. He was pretty sure they weren’t going to shoot him on sight, but he didn’t stray from the door just in case. He’d left it open slightly so he could reach the rifle. Now he stood with the beer and pretended to be interested in what was going on.

  The dogs approached, barking incessantly. The man on the third snowmobile called to them and they turned and loped back to him. The other two men came closer, sliding to a halt and looking at Jared triumphantly.

  “Hey, man,” Jared said, slurring his words a little. “Y’all find them hogs?”

  The bearded man’s eyes stayed narrow but the other one scratched his chin. “Seems like it, buddy.”

  The dogs were with the third guy now, but they were still restless. Probably hunting dogs rather than trackers—the kind that searched for deer blood—but they’d done the job.

  “Thought you said you was alone,” Beard said.

  “I am.”

  Beard shook his head and slid his hand around to the rifle across his back.

  Aw, damn. So much for bluffing his way out of this. Jared whipped his Sig Sauer P320 with the laser site out of the holster and aimed a bead at the man’s forehead.

  “Wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
<
br />   “Shit,” the other guy swore. “There’s a dot on your forehead, dude.”

  Jared wasted no time dropping the beer and drawing a Glock with the other hand. He pointed this one at the man who’d just spoken. The guy with the dogs blinked. Probably deciding whether or not to go for his gun. Jared hoped he didn’t. But if he did, Jared would drop these two and go for him.

  “No dot on this one, I’m afraid,” Jared drawled, jerking his chin toward the Glock. “But the aim is just as deadly. Hands up, both of you.”

  They slowly obeyed.

  “Man, I don’t know who you are, but you have no clue who you’re fucking with,” Beard said in a nasty voice. “Just give us the girl and we’ll go. We’ve got no quarrel with you.”

  “Got no girl here, like I said. It’s just me. And I’d say you’re the ones who have no idea who you’re fucking with.”

  “You’re lying. The dogs tracked her here.”

  “Those are hunting dogs, not bloodhounds. How do you fucking know they got it right?”

  Obviously the dogs had, but giving them props for being good dogs wasn’t in his best interest right now. It definitely wasn’t in Libby’s.

  “They’re right,” the third man called out. “She came here. And she’s inside that cabin now.”

  “Guess it’s my word against theirs.”

  Dog Man started to ease his hand across his abdomen.

  “You go for your gun, I’m dropping these two and then dropping you.”

  “Huh. You ain’t that good.” Beard this time.

  “Oh yeah? Don’t have to be though, do I? You’ve still got a one in three chance of making it out alive. But honestly, man, I don’t like your fucking face. I’ll make sure I hit you before these two.”

  “Look,” the guy on the snowmobile beside Beard said. “Our quarrel isn’t with you. This girl you’re protecting—she stole some stuff and we want it back. That’s all.”